


Every Story Has Its Beginning

by onesillygoose



Series: Our Past and Future [2]
Category: Captain America, Marvel
Genre: 1945, Bottom Steve Rogers, Captain America - Freeform, Dry Humping, Feelings, Frottage, Guilt, Kissing, M/M, Marvel Universe, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Stucky - Freeform, Top Bucky Barnes, time appropriate language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 15:04:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9390218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onesillygoose/pseuds/onesillygoose
Summary: Where Steve and Bucky's friendship first became more than just friendship.(Technically a prequel to "Road to Forgiveness".)





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the second part of my "Our Past and Future" series. Not really sure exactly how many I'll be doing, but right now it looks like about five total. I think the next story will take place during The First Avenger, and will be told mostly from Steve's point of view. And then the fourth story will take place during Civil War again. We'll see.
> 
> I tried to limit the amount of 1940's American slang I used, but I did want it to be somewhat convincing. Sorry if it gets to be a bit too much, though.
> 
> Also, just a little side note, no one ever proofreads my stories before I post them except for me, so if you notice anything funny, please feel free to let me know.
> 
> Anyway, I really hope you guys like this story! Enjoy!

Bucky can only imagine how much losing Sarah has taken its toll on Steve. Sure, he shares some of what he’s feeling, but not everything. It was hard on _him_ and Sarah wasn’t even his ma. He knows it’s killing the little guy, even if he never says a word. Steve is like that. Never wanting to show the cracks in his armor. Too afraid to cause anyone any type of imposition. Especially Bucky, which hurts worse than Bucky is willing to say out loud.

He’d meant it when he asked Steve to move in with him. He just feels better in his everyday life when he can keep an eye on Steve. And even with Steve’s meager paychecks being as small as they are, they could easily afford a place together, and Bucky might finally get to move out of his ma’s place. Seeing as she was only comfortable with Bucky having his own place if Steve was around.

People always assumed Bucky was the stronger of the two of them. Sure, he was bigger, but Steve was braver, smarter, tougher, in every way. Or at least Bucky thought so. And the kid would always have Bucky’s six when it mattered.

So Bucky has been asking for weeks. Not selfishly, never. He doesn’t care that much about getting his own place. It isn’t really that important to him. He can deal with his circumstances for as long as he has to. But watching Steve suffer alone because he thinks he has to… Bucky can’t just stand by and watch.

He asks Steve almost every day for a month. When Steve would come down to the docks to bring him the lunch his ma had asked Steve to deliver. When he would walk Steve to work at the drug store around the block. When they’d go see a picture and Bucky’s chest would ache to think that Steve was going back to his dark apartment all alone afterward. Yeah, Bucky only lived two blocks away, but his mind wouldn’t accept that.

It’s a rough day, to put it mildly, when he finally manages to break Steve. His father’s birthday, and Bucky knows even before he gets to Steve’s place to walk him to work this morning that it’s going to be a bad day for Steve. He's hurting bad.

The smaller boy is quiet, all but silent as they walk. Answers in kind to Bucky’s pathetic small talk, but doesn’t say much else. Bucky decides to drop the matter for the time being, knowing the customers won’t appreciate Steve’s already sour attitude being made worse. Bucky is honestly surprised to find Steve waiting for him at the docks at the end of his shift, and they start their walk home, moving even slower than usual.

“So, I think I might be able to pick up a few extra shifts next week. Pay check’ll be pretty good this time around. Thought I might buy you those new paints you’ve been lookin’ at. I know how bad you've been wantin' those.”

Steve doesn’t look at him, and keeps his expression neutral as he answers Bucky in a clipped tone.

“That’s alright, Buck. I got my own money from workin’ at the shop. Don’t need any of yours.”

Bucky nods, but doesn’t rise to Steve's bait. He waits a few tense minutes before he tries a new tactic.

“So, what’re you gonna do with all this spare change in your pocket? Huh? You plannin’ on takin’ out some dame for a real swell evenin’?” He teases playfully.

He doesn’t miss the way Steve balls his small fists.

“Ain’t none of your business what I’m doin’ with that money.”

Bucky knows he should back off right now, but Steve always gets worse before he gets better. He’s that way with everything.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean no harm. I was just thinkin’ is all, and maybe… maybe it might be good to put it towards our place? Just you and me?”

Steve has lost count of how many times Bucky has asked him to move in since his mother’s funeral a month ago. He knows Bucky means well, but he just needs to be on his own right now. Prove to himself he can do it. But truth be told, Bucky is getting on his last nerve about it.

“Buck-“

“I just think it’d be good for you, is all. I don’t like the idea of you alone in your place every night. Especially with all your ma’s stuff. It won’t get any easier until you try to get past this. I know it’s hard, but don’t you think you oughtta try sellin’ some of her things now?”

Steve takes a deep breath in through his nose. Bucky must be just itching to get himself punched.

“I’m sorry I keep bringing it up. I just worry about you. I think it’d be good for you to have someone around. Keep an eye on you and make sure you’re doin’ alright. I gotta take care of you, Steve. It’s you and me, remember? ‘Til the end of the line.”

Steve freezes right there in the middle of the sidewalk, making Bucky halt as well, and rounds on him. Little chest all puffed up and face redder than Bucky has ever seen it. He looks madder than a hornet.

“Would you shut up about all that?! I’m fine, Buck! I told you I didn’t need your help and I meant it! I don’t need you, or anyone else lookin’ out for me! So why don’t you just lay off!”

And then Steve is taking off at a full sprint down the sidewalk.

“Steve!” He hears Bucky shout after him.

He doesn’t stop. Even when his lungs start to burn. Thankfully he remembered his key this morning and digs it out of his pocket, unlocking his front door the moment he reaches it. It’s been maybe half a minute after he locks it behind him when he hears Bucky shouting at him through the wood.

“Steve! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to upset ya!”

“Just go away, Buck! Please!” Steve shouts back before going to the bathroom and sitting on the edge of the tub.

His chest still aches, and he can’t quite catch his breath. He can feel the sting of tears in the back of his throat and digs the heels of his hands into his eyes to try and keep them at bay. It’s no use, though, and it isn’t long before his palms are soaked with salt water. He remembers what Bucky always says, “ _Breathe with me, that’s it. In, out. Slow, like that. You’re doin’ really good, Stevie_.” Eventually he’s able to catch his breath without having a fit.

He doesn’t know how long he sits like that, but when he lifts his head he sees Bucky standing there in front of him. He’s holding out a bottle of soda and a sandwich from Steve’s favorite deli down the street.

Steve accepts it and sniffs pathetically, offering Bucky a sad, teary smile when he says in a shaky voice, “I really need to move that spare key.”

Bucky gives him a small, but heartfelt smile in return.

“Nah. Then I’d just have to break a window to get in here.”

Bucky sits with him on the bathroom floor while he eats, cracking jokes and making Steve laugh in no time flat. Steve’s breathing has completely returned to normal, his tears have dried up, and the aching in his chest is gone. Only Bucky is able to do those things for him, and then Steve realizes how stupid he’s been to reject Bucky’s offers.

“Hey, Buck?” Steve says when their conversation has lulled into a comfortable silence. He’s finished his sandwich and watches as Bucky takes a sip of his soda.

“Hm?”

“I was… I was just wonderin’… if you really meant it. About me movin’ in with you.”

It’s a rare thing, when Bucky’s serious, but right now he looks as serious as he could.

“Of course I did, Stevie. I wouldn’t’ve asked ya if I didn’t mean it. All that matters to me is you bein’ happy. After all, you’re my best pal.”

“Til the end of the line?” Steve asks.

A huge glowing grin breaks out on Bucky’s face and he nods in affirmation.

“Til the end of the line.”

\---

It was almost a year ago that Bucky and Steve got their place together. They celebrated the night they moved in. Went up on the roof with Steve’s ma’s radio and a bottle of champagne that Bucky bought. They'd gotten so loud that one of their new neighbors, Mrs. Fitzpatrick had come up to the roof to scold them. But even that couldn't put a damper on their moods. It was a night neither would ever forget.

It all seems so long ago now. Before war had reached American soil. Before Bucky had been forced to enlist and before Steve had ever tried. Before Bucky had started taking on every extra shift he could to make sure that Steve could get by for… well, however long he might be gone for. And if he didn’t come back… Bucky had his ma and sister make a promise to him to always take care of Steve. Even if they had to force feed him if it came to it.

Bucky had thought things had been bad after Sarah had died, but that was nothing compared to how Steve was now. He was almost always angry, or sulking. For the first month after Bucky had been drafted, Steve had gotten into a fight every day. He didn’t have a single shirt anymore without at least a small bloodstain on it. To say Steve hadn’t taken things well was putting it mildly.

He wasn’t sure what made Steve so keen to fight in the war. Maybe Steve really did think it was his civic duty. Maybe he was just trying to prove himself. Maybe he felt like he was abandoning Bucky by letting him go overseas alone. Maybe he just hated being reminded for the thousandth time in his life that his body made him “inferior”, even though the notion was complete nonsense. Whatever the case, Steve wasn’t happy.

It's two nights before Bucky’s deployment, and he’s been hearing talk from the guys down at the docks that soldiers will likely be getting called to duty any day now. He’s always known it was coming, but now it just felt so real. He knows they're right, htough. The Ally powers were falling, and more troops were needed. Still, the thought of leaving Steve for months, possibly even years… Bucky just couldn’t think about it.

And just like that, a kid in uniform who can’t be much older than himself shows up with a letter that instructs him to be at the recruiter’s office first thing in the morning. Bucky knows he’s getting his orders. He feels sick. He feels angry. He feels like he needs to get drunk.

He stops at a grocery on the way home to buy a bottle of whiskey, and thanks the lord that prohibition had ended long ago. While checking out, he notices a cute girl shopping for produce and introduces himself. The conversation carries on easily and he invites her out tomorrow night, suggesting they go to the Stark Expo that’s set up downtown. He asks she bring a friend, and spends longer than he probably should telling her about all the ways Steve is so great and why her friend will love him. She smiles anyway and says goodbye after they agree on a meeting time.

Steve is already home when he gets there, doodling in his sketchbook while dinner simmers on the stove. They can’t afford to spend much on food these days, but Steve always manages makes the most of what they have. One more thing about him that Bucky thinks is great.

Their moving in together had been a blessing for Bucky. He loves living with Steve. Steve is his best friend. And as it turned out, Steve takes care of him just as much as he takes care of Steve. There is nothing on earth Steve can’t do when he puts his mind to it. Bucky isn’t into religion much these days, but he thanks the lord for the second time today for giving him a friend like Steve Rogers.

The smaller boy hasn’t even noticed he’s home. Just sits perfectly still at their second hand kitchen table while he continues to draw. Bucky peeks over his shoulder silently, noticing that Steve is drawing him again, taking his time as he tries to get Bucky’s eyes just right.

Steve doesn’t draw much else these days. Probably because he also knows that Bucky could be leaving any day now. And Bucky briefly considers telling him about the letter from the recruiter’s office, but changes his mind. If this is his last night before he ships out, then he wants to make the most of it.

“Looks good, Stevie.”

Steve jumps, his arms covering his drawing on reflex. Steve doesn’t think much of his art, but Bucky sees it. Sees how extraordinarily talented Steve is and has vowed to him more than once that he’s going to use his money from the army to pay Steve’s tuition to art school.   

“Buck! I didn’t even hear you come in. How was work?”

“Pretty good. Went by the grocery to pick up this,” Bucky holds up the bottle of whiskey.

“We shouldn’t be spendin’ money on booze. I know we’ve both been savin’ up for a while, but it’s an unnecessary expense.”

“Aw, shut it. We never get to do anything fun. I thought tonight we’d do somethin’ special.”

Steve eyes him skeptically, and Bucky knows that he knows he’s up to something.

“Alright, Barnes, spill the goods. What’s goin’ on?”

“Nothin’! What? Somethin’s gotta be wrong for a fella to wanna buy some booze? Come on, ease up a little.”

It breaks his heart any time he has to lie to Steve. The skinny boy is practically his whole world, and he never feels good when he isn’t doing right by a man who should’ve been named a saint long ago. It especially breaks his heart now, to lie about something so severe, but he’d never forgive himself if he spent his last night with Steve arguing. All that matters to him is keeping Steve happy and safe, and so he sends up one last silent prayer for all the times Steve has been turned away from recruiters.

“Buck!”

Bucky jumps this time, only now realizing that Steve has been talking to him.

“Sorry, Stevie? What were you sayin’?”

“You listening, jerk? I said I can fix ya a bowl if you’re hungry. Are you sure there’s nothin’ you wanna tell me?”

Bucky once again considers telling him the truth, but he’ll be damned if he gives Steve another reason to try to falsely enlist.

“Absolutely sure. Everything’s dandy. Now, let’s eat. And then we can crack open this bottle.”

“Buck, you know I’m not too keen on whiskey.”

“Too late now. And I ain’t drinkin’ alone, punk.”

They eat the humble soup that Steve prepared for them and the second they finish, Bucky’s opening the bottle and pouring them both three fingers of the amber liquid.

“No way, pal! I cooked, which means you do dishes!” Steve commands as he swipes both glasses right from under Bucky’s nose.

“Aw, come on, Steve! I’ll wash them in the morning!”

“I’ve heard that one before. No, sir. No drinks until the kitchen is clean.”

Bucky huffs, but does as Steve tells him. He’s not dumb enough to ever oppose a demand from Steve.

Once the dishes are washed and dried- with Steve’s help- they lay back on the couch and just enjoy the evening and each other’s company.

They’ve finished their first glass and Bucky has already poured them a hefty second one that they’re both mostly through. He’s feeling really good and Steve is a lightweight, so he can only imagine what Steve’s feeling like right now. And that’s when Steve starts rambling.

“What am I gonna do without you when you leave?”

A cold panic shoots up Bucky’s spine. His tongue gets loose when he drinks, but he knows for a fact that he hasn’t said anything to Steve. How does the little punk always know?

“You’ll be alright, Steve. You’ve got all the money we’ve saved up. It should get you through at least the first six months. And that’s if you wanna quit the drug store. If you need more then I’m sure the guys down at the docks will give you a loan and I can pay ‘em back when I get stateside again. Just keep drawin’, and check in with my ma every now and then. You know how she frets over you. And please, _please_ , Steve, I _beg_ of you, _no fights_. Ain’t gonna have someone to watch out for you for a while. So I don’t wanna get home and get thrown in jail first thing for breakin’ some fella’s nose because he hit you.”

Steve sniffles, and Bucky looks down at where Steve has all but sunk back into the worn out couch. He knows it’s a matter of seconds until the tears spill over and leave glistening tracks down Steve’s pale, downy cheeks. Although, he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy seeing the goofy flush on Steve’s nose when he starts crying. It’s been that way ever since Steve was little.

“But what am I gonna _do_ without you, Buck? It’s always been the two of us. Side by side.”

“And it’ll still be the two of us when I come home. I promise you, kid. Til the end of the line, remember?”

Steve looks up at him then, crystal blue eyes glossy and big.

“I’m gonna miss you so much.”

The words send a strange thrill through Bucky’s body. One he’s never felt before and couldn’t even begin to understand. And maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe he wants to, but he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his handkerchief, and pushes it into Steve’s hand that isn’t holding the glass. He knows it’s something broads do. Tokens so that they inspire their men to come back home to them. But it just feels right, and Bucky doesn’t care what the gesture means, just as long as it soothes Steve.

The tears spill over anyway, and Steve’s slender shoulders shake with the sobs he’s no longer able to hold back. Bucky takes the handkerchief back out of Steve’s hand to wipe his eyes, rub the tears clinging to the tip of his nose. Then he tucks the square cloth into the pocket of Steve’s shirt and wraps him up in a hug. He always fits so well into Bucky’s arms, and jesus, he’s going to miss this.

“You’ll be just fine, Stevie. You’re the strongest person in the whole world. You’ll be just fine.”

Then Steve is suddenly pulling away, his hand shoves at Bucky’s chest so hard that it practically knocks the air out of him. The aggressive gesture is so startling to Bucky that he stares down at Steve with wide, shocked eyes. He’s even more shocked when Steve grabs a handful of his shirt and yanks him forward, staring Bucky right in the eye. Steve’s other hand drops his glass, the noise loud and obtrusive in the kinetic silence of the room and it’s a miracle the glass doesn’t break. Steve doesn’t seem the slightest bit concerned, though, as he places his other hand on the back of Bucky’s neck, so that he can’t look anywhere else even if he wanted to.

“You’d better come back home to me.”

Something strange comes over Bucky and he lurches forward, pressing his mouth against Steve’s- his best friend since childhood- lips. It’s soft at first. Gentle and hesitant, like he would be if he were kissin’ a dame. Except this isn’t anything like kissing a dame. This is Steve. His best friend, his brother for all intents and purposes, a _man_. And here Bucky is kissing him like it’s all he’s thought about his entire life. And then Steve is kissing him back and it’s rough and urgent, and he feels Steve’s small and shaky hands undoing the buttons of his shirt.

Bucky has no idea where this is going. He’d know what to do if he were with a girl, but he’s not. He’s with Steve, and Steve clearly wants this, and Bucky would never deny him anything he wants. So he lets Steve take the lead, promising to himself that no matter what happens, he’ll take care of Steve.

“Lose the shirt, Barnes.” Steve whispers against his lips before they’re pressed together again.

Bucky is suddenly very unconcerned with his own glass now as he lets it drop to the floor to join Steve’s. He shrugs the material off his arms and then helps Steve get his shirt off. He’s reminded yet again once Steve’s shirt is discarded that this is Steve and Steve is definitely not a girl. His chest is flat and bony. His stomach is firm instead of just a little bit soft. His shoulders are still fragile like a dame’s, but Steve is just something else entirely. He hopes Steve knows what he’s doing. Hopes for Steve’s sake that the kid won’t regret this in the morning, because it’s too late to take it back now.

They both pull away, eyes closed and foreheads touching as they just breathe in the other’s air for a moment.

“Don’t forget about me.” Bucky whispers into the stillness.

“Never. Don’t leave me behind.” Steve whispers back.

Bucky smiles.

"Never."

And the pull of Steve’s lips becomes too much then, so Bucky presses their mouths back together, this time sliding his tongue out to gently prod against Steve’s lips. Steve gasps and jerks, and Bucky remembers that this is Steve’s _first kiss_ , but he assumes it’s okay to keep going, so he does. He wraps his arms around Steve and slips his tongue in, holding him close as he deepens the kiss. Steve moans shyly into his mouth. Bucky’s cock twitches once at that, sympathetically, before he finds himself fully hard.

He needs more. Needs to crawl inside Steve and have Steve crawl inside him so that they won’t ever lose each other. So that even when Bucky’s is halfway across the world, they’ll still have each other.

He hauls Steve into his lap and hears the squeak the small boy lets out.

Bucky pulls away again to ask, “You okay, Stevie?”

Steve nods and pants out, “Yeah. Yeah, Buck. I’m alright. Can we… can we keep going?”

He almost laughs, because that’s Steve Rogers in a nutshell. Never backing down and never doing anything half assed.

Bucky gives him a smile and kisses him again, hot and filthy and rushed. He presses gently against Steve’s thigh, urging him to spread his legs wider on either side of Bucky’s hips until their fronts are pressed snug against each other. He runs his hands up and down Steve’s smooth, crooked back. Steve’s own arms are wrapped around his neck. He can feel Steve shifting, trying to get comfortable or something, and they both break away at the same moment to groan as their now equally hard cocks brush against each other.

The alcohol and lust are doing wonders in Bucky’s bloodstream, and his head is absolutely spinning with it right now. He has to pull away from Steve’s mouth again just to catch his breath.

“Maybe… maybe we should do this in the bedroom. Seems proper. And I wanna make sure you’re comfortable.” Bucky manages to get out between sucking in gulps of air.

Steve nods fervently. He stands up quickly, making his way to the bedroom without hesitation. Bucky takes a few seconds to try and get himself together, but it really doesn’t do much. He’s too far gone from the booze and from Steve to have any hope.

He follows Steve into the bedroom a short time later, and Steve is just standing there. Staring at the bed with nervous eyes while his hands flex at his sides.

“Steve-“ Bucky starts.

“Save it, Buck.” Is all he says before he’s undoing his pants and slipping them down his narrow hips. It ceases all arguments Bucky was considering.

Bucky swallows hard. He’s seen Steve in his boxers before, but this is nothing like those other times. This is omething so much better. He watches as Steve crawls into their shared bed and covers himself modestly with the sheet.

Bucky’s never done anything like this in their bed before. They could only afford the one mattress, and they had split the cost. It always seemed rude and disrespectful to him to do something like that in a bed that’s equally his and Steve’s. He takes the couch any time he brings a jane or a sheba home, to their disdain. But he refuses to put Steve out. Same if Steve is sick. No matter how much he may protest, Bucky always makes sure Steve is properly taken care of. But this, he supposes it’s only right that they do this in their bed. He’ll never, ever share it with anyone but Steve anyway.

“Buck?”

Bucky is snapped from his thoughts to see a faint blush making its way down Steve’s cheeks, to his neck, to his small chest. He knows Steve must feel awkward as hell just sitting there, and he knows Steve well enough to see the hesitation in his eyes. Not because of Bucky, no. He trusts Bucky with his life. This is Steve’s own insecurities getting the better of him again and Bucky will not have it.

He crosses the small room quickly, shedding his pants as he goes and crawling under the covers with Steve. They lay on their sides, facing one another until Bucky scoots his way closer and starts kissing Steve again. There’s no uncertainty this time and the kiss quickly becomes frantic and needy. Bucky presses his mouth to Steve’s harder, forcing him to lay on his back so that Bucky can crawl on top of him. He keeps himself up on hands and knees, careful not to touch Steve any way that he isn’t ready for yet.

Steve shivers as Bucky’s dog tags graze his skin tenderly.

“You’re so damn pretty, Stevie.”

Steve blushes something fierce and he tugs on the dog tags to pull Bucky into another kiss to shut him up.

His lips find their way to Steve’s neck after a bit, kissing and lapping up the slight taste of sweat, breathing moist heat against Steve’s skin.

“Fuck, Steve. You smell so goddamn good. Can’t believe this is really happening.”

Shaking hands against his back quickly draw him out of his lust haze and he pulls away to study Steve’s face. He’s turned on, Bucky can tell by the dilation of his pupils. But he’s still so nervous.

“Hey,” he says soothingly, cupping Steve’s jaw gently, “I’m gonna take care of you, alright? You know I’ll always take care of you, Steve. Tell me you know that.”

Steve nods, but doesn’t speak.

“You still want this?”

“Yes.” Steve says, his voice rough with want.

Bucky is hardly drunk anymore. The call of Steve’s body doing more for him than any amount of alcohol ever could. He hopes Steve is sober enough to really know what he’s saying. To really want this. But again, it’s too late now.

His hips slowly lower to press against Steve's, his eyes slamming shut and he hisses at the heat of Steve’s dick pressing against his through two thin layers of fabric. He quickly starts moving. A slow rhythm against Steve as he grinds them together. He can feel Steve’s hands against his back again, this time much more sure and urgent. The friction is good. Better than good. But it won’t be enough for long. And if he knows Steve as well as he thinks he does, then he knows it won’t be enough for Steve either.

“Holy shit, Stevie. You feel so _good_. Jesus, I never knew this could feel this way.”

Steve’s delicate finger tips dig into his back and he whines.

“Buck! Oh, Bucky, it’s not enough. Please. Can you… can you touch me?”

“Got a better idea, baby.” Bucky doesn’t mean for the endearment to slip, but it feels so right that he can’t even be sorry about it.

He lifts himself to his knees once more, sliding down Steve’s boxers and then his own. The first touch of heated skin to heated skin has Steve trembling beneath him. And then he starts grinding against Steve again, their bare dicks sliding against each other, wet and hot and hard, and it’s the most amazing fucking thing he’s ever felt.

“Oh god, Bucky! Bucky, _please_! Nnh, ah!”

“Shh. Gotta stay quiet, baby. Don’t wanna wake up Mrs. Fitzpatrick.”

Steve covers his mouth with the back of his hand, but continues to let out moans and noises that are better than anything Bucky’s ever heard in his life, and he worries for a moment that his head might explode. He wants to keep those noises forever. Record them on a record and bring it overseas with him so that he can hear Steve every night and touch himself and pray to anyone listening that they’ll get him back to this little spitfire alive and well.

“Uhn, Bucky!” He hears Steve mumble against his hand. And then Steve's gasps are crystal clear again, and Bucky knows he’s given up on trying to keep himself quiet.

“Right here, Steve. I got you.” Bucky breathes.

Bucky forces himself to focus, pull back enough that he can study Steve’s face. He looks absolutely beautiful. Cherry red lips parted as moans continue to pour out. Irish pale skin flushed with heady desire. Mile long eyelashes casting shadows down sharp cheekbones.

“Jesus Christ, Stevie. Should fuckin’ see yourself. You’re so beautiful, baby. Look just like a porcelain doll. My filthy little doll.”

Steve throws his head back, hips unconsciously coming up to meet Bucky’s then and they both cry out at that. Bucky gives up on words, gives up on anything that isn’t Steve Rogers: skinny mouthy punk from Brooklyn.

He bites his lip to try and quiet himself and lets the entirety of his weight fall onto Steve so that there’s not a single bit of space between them. Their cocks are pressed together unforgivingly, and Bucky is only not crushing him because he somehow had the wherewithal to get his forearm down beside Steve’s head.

Steve’s head, Steve’s face, where his lips are, and now Bucky really needs to kiss him again, and so he does. It’s all lips and tongue and Bucky’s other hand reaches down to grip Steve’s hip meanly because Bucky’s attack on his mouth has apparently made him forget to move, so Bucky does it for him. Gently rocking Steve with him as they slide against each other.

“Oh, christ, Buck, I gotta… I need to…” He pants into Bucky’s mouth.

“Need to what, doll? Huh? Need to get off? You gonna blow, is that it?” Bucky whispers against his lips.

“Yes! Yes, _please_!” Steve begs sweetly.

Bucky’s mouth finds his neck again and he nuzzles and kisses the sweet smelling surface.

“Do it then. Come on, Steve. Show me. Wanna see it.” He says and then bites down softly.

Steve shouts and shudders, and Bucky can feel the spray of scorching fluid against him as Steve comes. He bites down on Steve’s shoulder damn hard, quickly following Steve over the edge when the delicious slip-slide becomes too much.

“Oh, fuck, Steve!” Bucky cries in a semi hushed tone.

Their stomachs and groins are both covered in semen. Sticky and messy and quickly cooling. There’s a bruise on Steve’s shoulder that he isn’t even remotely sorry for putting there. And Steve’s chest is still heaving, so much so that Bucky is quickly becoming seriously worried about Steve's asthma.

“You alright, Stevie?”

But Steve just nods. His breathing is slowly returning to normal, his eyes remaining closed. He reaches blindly to yank on Bucky’s tags again and pulls him in for a final sloppy kiss. He’s asleep within minutes. Bucky gets up to fill a bowl with hot water and uses one of their few dish rags to wipe Steve down. He uses what little hot water is left to take a quick shower.

He quickly dresses and climbs back into bed beside Steve, pulling his boxers back on and wrapping an arm around him to pull him close against him before Steve starts shivering. He stretches over and kisses Steve’s cheek just once.

“G’night, doll.”

\---

Bucky wakes up before Steve, eager to get to the recruiter’s office and get it over with. But that’s honestly the least of his concerns.

In the morning light, he realizes how serious what they’ve done is. It’s far too late to take it back, but it should’ve never happened. He should've never put Steve at risk for doing something like that. He doesn’t even know what the fuck he was thinking. He wonders briefly if this is maybe something all men do with their best pals. He knows the answer, though. Normal guys don’t do this. Normal guys don’t break laws with their best friend because of one night of getting bent. Normal guys are too worried about finding girls and don’t secretly take part in queer activities in the dark cover of night. Normal guys don’t risk themselves and the people they care about for a chance to get off.

Bucky was stupid and it was a mistake. They can’t ever talk about this again. Bucky would be thrown out of the military, and Steve… he doesn’t even want to think about what would happen to Steve.

He writes Steve a note, telling him they can’t ever talk about what happened, and that he needs to meet Bucky downtown this evening for a surprise.

Steve isn’t as pissed off as Bucky had expected when he interrupts Steve’s fight in the back alley of the theater. Isn’t as pissed off as he expected about finding out about Bucky’s orders coming in. He isn’t as pissed off as Bucky had expected about their double date either. And he isn’t pissed off at all when Bucky mentions going dancing. He’s once again too busy trying to enlist. Bucky can’t help but blame himself this time. He knows this one is entirely on him. He knows that there isn’t any other reason why Steve would try twice in one day other than to try and make damn sure that he could follow Bucky to the front lines.

Bucky will hate himself if Steve is actually taken. Will hate himself even more if Steve gets hurts if anyone ever finds out what happened last night. And will hate himself even more still for knowing that he hurt Steve by saying he had to take it all back when he really wants one last night at their place to do it again, instead of taking out some cookie he won’t remember in a month. But he’ll do anything, _anything_ , to protect Steve.

So he lets Steve go, because there’s nothing else he can do. It’s for the best. Steve can move past all this and find himself a real dish that he’ll hopefully get hitched to someday. And she’ll be lucky to have a man like Steve, and Bucky will be so proud of his best guy.

He says what could be his last goodbye with nothing more than a hug and a muttered “punk”, pretending that it doesn’t kill him that he can’t tell Steve that he doesn’t regret what they did and that he really does want Steve that way. Wants to stay with Steve forever and be the one to take care of him. He tries his best to ignore the pain in Steve's eyes as he salutes him and walks away.

And when he gets captured several months later in Germany by men who call themselves HYDRA, he finds that his biggest regret of all was not being honest with Steve. Was not apologizing for hurting him by acting as if what they did was something to be ashamed of.

And he realizes far too late, while lying on an operating table, that what he felt for Steve wasn’t normal at all, what he felt for Steve was love. He knows he won’t survive being their prisoner, but he promises to himself that if he does, he’ll tell Steve the truth about his feelings. He’s in love with Steven Grant Rogers, and he will never, ever feel ashamed of that. Because Bucky’s heart belongs to that stupid punk who’s waiting for him back home in Brooklyn. Bucky is head over heels for Steve, for better or worse, til the end of the line.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! Thank you all for reading and for making me feel so welcome in this fandom! I'm glad that so far I've done right by you all and I hope I can continue to make you all proud!


End file.
